


qué te pedí

by dannyikigay



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: 1966, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nostalgia, Sexual Content, set in cuba, sometimes relationships end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyikigay/pseuds/dannyikigay
Summary: Tyki is summer itself, the warm rays his wet tongue, the fleeting infatuation his broken promises. Summer is his slick hair, haze his sweet lips, sea breeze his deep voice, and Allen fades away like ashes to the enchantment of Tyki’s beauty. It doesn’t matter when Tyki tells him he’s beautiful. It’s tender, but it’s not everything. Tyki won’t stay.
Relationships: Tyki Mikk/Allen Walker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	qué te pedí

**Author's Note:**

> song is "qué te pedí" by cuban singer la lupe. please check it out <3

3 P.M.1966.  
  
[The Sun](https://youtu.be/FI0naMf0T04) gleams gently, projecting its rays through the glass of the window, splattering light across the dusty tiles on the floor. Scorching warmth silences the world; down the street, the dizzy whore waits with a cigarette in her mouth, the old man sits outside his favourite bar with his weak fingers running continuously through his stained, white beard, exhausted soul basking in the summer daze.   
  
In a rundown motel room, with its neon-lights temporarily turned off, its creaky walls, Allen listens to words sung in a language he doesn’t know. It’s mesmerising. It’s quiet. He smells of sunlight and heat, his cheeks pink, his smooth hair brushed over one shoulder, his body totally bare if not for Tyki’s white shirt, large and perfumed and comfortable around him.   
  
Shades of gold illuminate Tyki’s record player, on the bedside table, the stylus passionately scratching across the vinyl. Allen’s heart aches, the mechanical gesture reminding him of the way Tyki’s hand caresses his trembling skin in the ecstasy of their joined afterglow.   
  
He leans with his back against the wall, eyes open, sweat dripping down his back, and he listens. He listens to the noises down the street, a careful word, friendly laughter, love songs whispered under one’s breath, all submitted to the dreamy silence of the afternoon. Allen listens, falls under a drowsy spell; it’s soothing and it’s beautiful, it’s Tyki’s favourite song.   
  
_Qué te pedí_

_Que no fuera leal comprensión_

_Que supieras que no hay en la vida otro amor_

_Como mi amor…*_ _  
_ _  
_ Eyes now closed, Allen loses himself in the melancholy of the woman’s voice. The music is Tyki’s blood and flesh and love, the heated passion is his dark complexion, the sensuous despair is his lascivious abandon, his painful beauty. Tyki is summer itself, the warm rays his wet tongue, the fleeting infatuation his broken promises. Summer is his slick hair, haze his sweet lips, sea breeze his deep voice, and Allen fades away like ashes to the enchantment of Tyki’s beauty. It doesn’t matter when Tyki tells him he’s beautiful. It’s tender, but it’s not everything. Tyki won’t stay.   
  
_Hoy me pides tú_

_Las estrellas y el sol_

_No soy un Dios…*_ _  
_ _  
_ He won’t stay. But Allen understands. There are things a man can’t avoid. There is a certain type of love that cannot last forever. It’s too beautiful to last. It’s too precious to allow old age and boredom to destroy its eternal fascination. Allen knows: it has to die before it’s already dead. He understands. It hurts, but he is no one to force Tyki to stay. They are selfish creatures, in masochistic longing for beauty; for it is better to suffer than to succumb to habitude.   
Allen opens his eyes again when Tyki walks out the bathroom, in his underwear, muscles exposed. He smiles softly, tall and gorgeous and dangerous, and takes Allen into his arms. He leans down and embraces him, wraps his arms around Allen’s slender back and inhales his scent, his cheek lovingly pressed against his, exchanging warmth, closeness, mutual connection. Allen stands with the tip of his toes and holds him, brushing his nose across Tyki’s neck, breathing in his aftershave, the smell of his favourite cigarettes, the freshness of pale linens drying in the Sun. It’s tight, and Allen feels safe, _feels_ that words need not be said; he lets Tyki cradle the back of his neck and press a kiss to his pink lips, while the song plays over and over again, and Tyki’s tongue is in his mouth, sliding softly, tasting every inch of him. And Allen kisses him, doesn’t stop even as Tyki hooks his arms around his thighs and picks him up, pushing him against the glass, making him sit on the windowsill, where everyone can see them, his back, the way he arches it when Tyki kisses him so filthy and hot.   
  
Allen spreads his legs open for him, pulls Tyki in, throws his arms around his shoulder and scratches him, deepening the kiss. He rolls his hips, rubbing himself against him, and pulls away from the kiss to lick and bite Tyki’s neck and cheek, with Tyki’s hand wandering down his legs to massage his entrance, to prepare him for himself, to have him, to have him loose and dirty and defenceless. Allen wants to cry (Tyki says he’s pretty when tears fall down his face, says he’s the one he’s always dreamed of), but he won’t give in yet, he won’t, so he trails his hands down Tyki’s muscular, strong spine, and grabs his backside, pushes him onto himself, more and more and more.   
  
Gaze like liquid gold, Tyki watches him intensely as he goes down, down, kissing Allen’s pale belly until he’s facing his pretty dick, shoves Allen’s legs around his neck and starts to kiss him, to lick him, to engulf him into his throat as the boy’s shaking, taking a fistful of Tyki’s black, tight curls. Allen sweats against the window-glass, his head leaned back when Tyki sucks him hard and hot, his mouth agape and his toes curling, knots of pleasure tangled in his abdomen, burning him to a cinder. He forgets everything when he’s with Tyki, the music, the weather, himself; but not the fact that summer’s almost gone and Tyki’s promises will flutter away with it. That Tyki will stay here, in the land of cicadas and palm trees, but Allen will go away, far, far, far; heartbroken.   
  
_Así como soy_

_Yo te ofrezco mi amor_

_No tengo más*_ _  
_ _  
_ It’s love when Tyki dips his tongue into his entrance, it’s love when Allen’s fingers are intertwined through his messy hair, it’s nothing but love; but is it love always meant to last, is it invincible? Is there something that defies it, that ruins it, that prevaricates it? Allen pulls Tyki by his hair, kisses him again like he’s dying for it, lifts his legs as much as possible to let Tyki push his throbbing cock inside, because they fucked before, they fucked a lot and it’s never enough, he’s prepared for it, he wants more, he wants to feel him inside before it’s over.   
  
Tyki thrusts inside and Allen is full of him, his back a flexuous line as he arches his plump ass, something undefinable and suffocating and sorrowful clenching his heart in a fatal grip. “I adore you,” Tyki whispers into his ear, voice hoarse, broken with pleasure and effort; Allen nods and tilts Tyki’s head to the side, silences him with a kiss on the mouth, bucks his hips fervently, taking more and more of his man’s cock, caging him inside, stroking him, feeling him.   
  
And Tyki comes, he comes, they reach their climax together as Tyki laces their fingers together, as Allen’s head spins in the dizzy numbness; they come, holding each other, letting everyone see, were one to lift their head up and see them make love against the window, and wonder what their thoughts are, what’s their story.   
  
It ends when it becomes too beautiful, so Allen rests his head on Tyki’s chest. He listens to his heartbeat and tries to remember the cadence and the rhythm of it, as to have something of him to dream about on a lonely night. Tyki runs his fingers through his hair and kisses his forehead, so pure and intimate, so _wholehearted_ that a tear rolls down Allen’s face, and he cries, he cries because Tyki’s eyes make his heart ache, because Tyki’s the only one and he’s the only one for Tyki, he _cries_ because they both know it but there is nothing to do about it.   
  
Tyki frowns as he cups Allen’s face between his hands, kissing his tears away. “Boy,” he says, “please don’t cry,” he whispers, and it’s painful and sweet and his hands are on his cheeks, caressing him and keeping him safe, _understanding_ him. Allen tries to pull away, hiding himself into Tyki’s arms. It’s Tyki’s voice that makes him cry, the slow musicality, the dominant undertone.   
  
A bitter smile forms on his face. He melts into his embrace, and remembers that Tyki is bound to marry someone else. That he’ll go out of Cuba, and Tyki will wear his beautiful suit and breathe out that dangerous ‘yes’, adore someone else’s skin, kiss the eyelids of a gorgeous wife. That he’ll make love to her and think about who was once in his heart. And realise, eventually, that incertitude is not worth killing one’s greatest love.   
  
Tyki sighs, opens his arms and lets him go. Allen smiles. He doesn’t cry anymore. The same old song plays over and over again.   
  
He doesn’t want to feel miserable when Tyki walks away. So he gathers his clothes, takes Tyki’s shirt off his shoulders, and stops the record from playing once again.   
  
Then he goes. He doesn’t want to look back at Tyki, but the smoke of his newly lit cigarette keeps haunting him.

**Author's Note:**

> *What did I ask from you, other than loyal understanding,  
> other than realising that in this life there's no  
> other love like mine
> 
> *Today you ask for  
> the stars and the sun, but I'm not a god
> 
> *Just like I am, I'm offering you my love, I've got nothing else
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated <3


End file.
